Belonging
by The Forgotten Nobody
Summary: "This is not your business; you're not even a Musketeer." d'Artagnan concealed the sudden hurt that sprung into his chest with a smile. A response to a prompt given by raouldehadleyfraser on tumblr!


"This is not your business; you're not even a Musketeer."

d'Artagnan concealed the sudden hurt that sprung into his chest with a smile.

"Well, apparently neither are you," he retorted, hoping his voice didn't shake like it wanted to.

Marsac leapt at him, but Porthos intercepted the enraged man with a threat that eased some of the hurt d'Artagnan felt, but did not remove completely. d'Artagnan knew he should not feel such a way at something that was the truth, but he couldn't help it. Until he could truly prove himself, should that day ever come, he would never be of the same standing as his friends. Not only was he not a Musketeer like them, but he was the newcomer still. The boy from Gascony who had wormed his way into their close knit group and had somehow managed to stay there. He had already shown with his failed attempt to stop Vadim that he was still inexperienced and should not be trusted with matters of great importance.

The others had continued to discuss what they were going to do and d'Artagnan hastened to listen and catch up, ignoring his trouble. Now was not the time dwell on such things, not when they had a job to do.

* * *

All in all, it could have gone worse. The Duke of Savoy had signed the treaty and so France was not under threat from Spain and Marsac had failed his attempt to assassinate Captain Treville. It did however; end with Aramis killing his friend and d'Artagnan knew that was not something one recovered from quickly. Despite this he didn't expect to eat breakfast alone.

Since he had met them, the four friends had taken to eating breakfast together unless they were busy or should one of them have had a late night at the bar and needed the morning to recover. Aramis, he would not have been surprised to not see, however both Athos and Porthos being absent did confuse him. They had only just finished a duty, so they should not be busy with that and he knew for a fact that they all retired early the previous night. d'Artagnan had no idea where his friends would be, and so he set about his routine trying to think of what they may be doing.

As he was not yet a Musketeer, d'Artagnan had to do work alongside what he did with his friends. There was always the option of simply just carrying out his formal duties, but d'Artagnan knew that he would not see his friends if he did that and as the new man in Paris, a man needed all the friends he could have.

Later that day, d'Artagnan hoped to see his friends for dinner, but either they had not left their homes, or they were avoiding him. Both seemed equally unlikely, but then the reminder of the last mission came to him. He was not yet a Musketeer. Perhaps they had things to do without him. Things that were none of his business.

d'Artagnan had wanted to call on them at their homes that night, but a new fear stopped him. This was the fear that his presence was unwanted, and that up until this point the three men had been merely humouring him. Now, a part of d'Artagnan knew that these thoughts were illogical, that his friends had not been avoiding him on purpose, but the larger part of d'Artagnan was thinking irrationally and so he walked past Athos' door and went to his lodging.

* * *

The next morning the same thing happened and d'Artagnan ate alone. His dark thoughts intensified and d'Artagnan became sure that his friends were avoiding him on purpose. He carried out his tasks of the day, trying not to let his melancholy mood hinder him for even if his friends may be leaving him out, he will still aim to be a Musketeer and that meant doing everything with as much enthusiasm and dedication as he could muster.

It was by luck that d'Artagnan saw them at dinner, as initially he had been planning to dine with Constance until her husband had demanded her attention that night. Not wanting to intrude, d'Artagnan had decided to eat out, and it was while he was eating that he spied his three wayward friends in the corner of the building. Under normal circumstances d'Artagnan wouldn't hesitate to go over to them, but he suddenly found himself hesitant. They hadn't made the effort to find him and tell him where they would be and so he probably wasn't wanted. They looked to be in deep discussion, or at least Aramis and Porthos did, and so they were probably talking about something important. Something that did not require him.

Porthos was the one who saw him, and after a momentary look of confusion, he spoke quickly to Athos and Aramis and stood. He made his way over to d'Artagnan and pulled over a seat so he sat in front of him.

'd'Artagnan! Where have you been? We haven't seen you since Tuesday," Porthos said pleasantly.

Resentment bubbled in d'Artagnan's chest and he tried to squander it. Porthos made it sound as if he had been the one to ignore them.

"We all must have just been very busy." d'Artagnan took a large mouthful of his food. Perhaps if he ate quickly enough then he would have an excuse to leave.

Porthos looked at him a bit oddly at the comment but stayed jovial. "I suppose. Why don't you come join us when you're finished?"

As we have said, under normal circumstances d'Artagnan would have joined them in a heartbeat, but all d'Artagnan could think was that Porthos was just indulging him.

"Actually, I believe I'll retire early tonight. I'm quite tired," he replied.

"Oh, well then we'll just join you until you leave!"

"I'm almost finished actually. Not too hungry you see," d'Artagnan said quickly, ignoring Porthos' disappointed face.

"Alright then, well, then we'll see you around?"

d'Artagnan just nodded and swiftly left, leaving Porthos alone. The next morning he didn't bother going to their normal place for breakfast and instead dined with Constance who noticed his less than stellar mood.

"What's with you then?" She asked as she passed him a bowl.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he told her even though he did.

"Don't act stupid. You've been moping ever since you finished that business with Marsac. What's the problem?" Though Constance's tone had taken one that he normally couldn't refuse, d'Artagnan felt himself particularly loath to speak. Whether it was because he would realise how pitiful his reasons for acting as he was sounded, or whether it was because he didn't want to worry Constance with his troubles he didn't know. Either way, he stayed silent on the matter.

"I apologise for my attitude then, know that it is nothing to do with you," he told her with a small smile, the one he knew she liked.

Constance huffed but didn't press the matter anymore. Little did d'Artagnan know was that she would take it into her own hands.

* * *

They found him late afternoon of that very day as he was carrying out a patrol. He hadn't been expecting them, thus allowing them to effectively corner him so that he couldn't flee.

"What is this?" He asked, both puzzled and suspicious. It almost felt like he was about to be interrogated.

"You didn't turn up at breakfast this morning," Athos said idly and d'Artagnan felt rage bubble up. _He _didn't turn up for breakfast?

"I was just following a trend," d'Artagnan replied coldly.

Realisation dawned on them, as if they thought d'Artagnan wouldn't notice their absence the past few mornings.

"Ah yes, we're sorry about that," Porthos said apologetically.

"It's alright," d'Artagnan dismissed, not in the mood to discuss anything. "May I please continue my work?"

"It's not alright," Athos commented, noticing the volatility of the Gascon. "Constance told us you have been acting strange. We came to see why."

While he knew Constance only did what she did out of concern, d'Artagnan could not help but be irritated. He did not ask for her help.

"I'm fine," he said.

"No you're mad at us. Which is understandable, we should have told you we wouldn't be present. It is my fault, I was not coping terribly well after…you know, and Athos and Porthos stayed with me. We did not tell you as we, well I, did not want to worry you. We didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

d'Artagnan took a proper look at Aramis and saw the dark rings under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights. He immediately felt sympathy for his friend, he could not begin to understand what he went through; it must have been extremely hard for him to kill his friend. The only other survivor of a bloody massacre.

"I understand," d'Artagnan said sincerely. "You don't need to apologise for that."

At the same time, however, the lingering feelings of not truly belonging did not fade. He now understood better why they had not been present, but they had still not sent word. He had still been forgotten by them.

"There is something else," Athos noted, when d'Artagnan continued to look conflicted.

"There is not," d'Artagnan protested but they all saw through his lie.

"Speak, what troubles you?" Aramis implored.

"I said it's nothing. Will you not just leave me be?" d'Artagnan exclaimed.

"Not until you tell us what the matter is," Athos said resolutely.

"Yes, we're all friends here," Porthos concurred.

d'Artagnan frowned. They weren't going to leave without an explanation so he may as well tell them. At least once they agreed it would all be over and done with.

"But I will never be as good a friend as you are to each other, will I? How can I be when I'm not even a Musketeer and when I try I end up ruining it!"

They all looked shocked at his outburst. Aramis was the first to question him.

"Are these insecurities what have been worrying you the past few days? For if they are, then they should not. We do not care that you are not a Musketeer and yes, you may be new here and for that reason alone I would not consider you as close as either Athos or Porthos, but given time then I cannot see any reason why you won't become as close."

"Exactly as Aramis says," Porthos agreed. "And what do you mean by ruining it?"

d'Artagnan was amazed they didn't know what he was referring to. "I failed to stop Vadim. He knew it was me the whole time. How can I become a Musketeer when I can't even do one simple thing?"

"You did as well as any of us would do," Aramis said compassionately. "Besides, did you ever think that perhaps Marsac saw the potential you had and that is why he found out? You have the makings of a Musketeer d'Artagnan, never doubt that."

"That's right. Now what brought this on?" Porthos asked.

d'Artagnan averted his gaze. Their words were heartening and he was beginning to realise what an idiot he had been acting like. "It was…with Marsac," d'Artagnan hadn't wanted to bring up Aramis' dead friend purely for the look that graced his face at the mention of the name, but it looked like the past few days had treated him well as he recovered quickly.

"What Marsac said was true, you are not a Musketeer," Aramis conceded. "However, that does not mean we do not consider you one. You are a Musketeer in everything but official title, as I have said. All you need is time, a bit of experience and soon you shall share the same uniform as us." He gave d'Artagnan a smile which the Gascon returned.

Athos was the only one left to speak and when eyes turned to him, he just shrugged and said; "Someone's got to keep you out of trouble, haven't' they? Now let's go. You have a patrol to finish don't you?" Though Athos' consolation was of few words, the small smile he gave d'Artagnan spoke many more and d'Artagnan's troubling thoughts cleared.

d'Artagnan did finish his patrol, and he completed it with his friends by his side. Now that his worries had been aired and dealt with, his footsteps were lighter and his head was held higher. So maybe he wasn't a Musketeer, he now knew that that didn't matter.


End file.
